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wicked idea. Dear Lord, she hoped there would be a next time.
    “That was...” She shook her head, unable to find words that didn’t make her sound silly or childish. “I want to make you feel the same way you...” Confound it. She was acting like some naive, virginal lamb. She huffed and raised to her elbows. “Your turn.”
    A crooked grin spread across his lips. He nodded. “Indeed, it is.” He trailed his damp finger from her bottom lip, over her chin, and down her throat to the valley of her chest. A heady scent—her scent—swirled to her nose awakening her body once more.
    Cutler shrugged off his tunic and freed himself from his trousers.
    Holy Mother of God. His shaft stood out long and proud. The tip of his crown glistened. He was a majestic design of manhood. Was it as hard as it appeared? Gracie couldn’t help herself. She touched him, surprised by the velvety feel of something so solid. Her fingertips lightly skimmed up to the head of wetness at the tip. It twitched of its own accord.
    “Christ, woman.” Cutler growled and clutched her chin. She didn’t mind. Gracie loved that he distracted her from her intimate curiosity with his spellbinding kisses—kisses that lasted even as he rubbed his shaft through her folds, coating himself with the cream he created.
    Her heart stopped beating with anticipation. And as he eased himself inside, stretching her entrance to receive him, she sighed. A surprising need to become one with him befell her; not to countdown the minutes to when he was done. She reveled in the feel of him, thick and whole.
    Lord help her, as he began to slide in and out, back and forth, the friction built to a fevered pitch. She gripped his lower back and lifted her hips, trying to force him in deeper, to ride her harder. ’Twas what she craved.
    Cutler planted his palms to the desk on either side of her head. He increased his speed, pumping faster. Her shoulders grated against the wood-grained desk intensifying all feeling—pleasure and pain. Breaking away from the rhythmic thrusts, he stared down at her, eyes hooded, teeth bared. Her pants came out in raspy moans. Harder and harder they rocked, neither unlocked their gazes. She couldn’t, wouldn’t be the first. She wanted to see his beautiful, clear eyes when he exploded.
    Digging her nails into his arse encouraged him to lance her once, twice more before he seized. Cutler threw his head back in a roar and withdrew, wetness dribbled upon her thigh. Satisfaction and delight swelled within Gracie knowing she was the cause. But the blissful gratification masked another, more dangerous emotion. One she wasn’t sure she could stop.
    Cutler pulled Gracie up to sit. He gazed at her for a long moment, his clear eyes stormy. What was he thinking? She wished she could peer into his soul and see if his thoughts mirrored her own.
    He pressed his lips to hers. “That was amazing. You were amazing,” he said.
    “Amazing,” she repeated. “Did I fulfill our accord to your satisfaction, Captain?” she teased.
    “Aye. More than you know, turtle. But now we will get naked and let me properly take you in my bed.”

CHAPTER 6
     
    The tinny sound of a boat’s bell harkened in the start of a fresh bountiful day. Small crafts weaved through the tapestry of glistening water around larger vessels anchored in the Matanzas harbor. Men and women stood in bumboats selling wares and haggling prices with sailormen leaning over the gunwales of ships. Seagulls swooped overhead through the naked masts on generous coastal breezes. St. Augustine waters were alive with as much activity as on the docks. Supplies were ferried, pulleys and ropes creaked with pallets of boxes or nets of barrels. Men grunted and hollered as they pulled the provisions on board vessels.
    Gracie stood at the rails watching the goings-on. Her mood was as much of a flurry of excitement as the men’s good-natured chatter about fresh rations of liquor. She had shared a glorious night